The Old Switcheroo
by Farthingale
Summary: Oldest device in the genre book. The cast of Rocky Horror preRHPS take a vacation from their bodies. Humour ensues.
1. Chapter 1

Frank stood back, a finger resting on his lip in thought. He tilted his head at the gadget, squinted. It looked ready. It looked a _competent _piece of equipment. He moved the hand to rest over the other, akimbo on his raised left hip. Symbols flashed before his eyes, formulae; as far as he could tell, everything was at it should be. The piece would most certainly work.

He glanced behind him; Riff Raff and Magenta were canoodling by a statue, pretending to be cleaning it. Well, as long as they didn't bother him while he tested it. Theoretically… this was a new technology… assuming it worked. Which it would. And then he would be free to move onto his larger project, into which this would fit, and which would make him the most famous Transylvanian scientist yet!

He raised the remote control unit, pointed it at the small metal box with intersecting tubing and the little gold satellite dish.

"_Fraaaank…_"

The whine made him screw his eyes up tightly and bite his lip. Columbia bounded in, wearing a pink and crimson corset with black hot pants, and carrying a matching feather duster. "_I _thought you said you were coming to my room! What're you _doing _here?"

He injected as much patience into his voice as was possible. "Just testing out my new toy, my dear… I shan't be much longer."

Columbia looked curiously at the invention. "What does it do?"

"Don't worry about it."

"No, tell me! What does it _do_?"

Frank sighed. "It records the bio-rhythmic patterns of the user and stores them in its database as a simple binary code-map, where they may be manipulated via a sensory input device to be altered much like one may now alter the genome. Once the optimum pattern oscillation is achieved, I will be able to project this new bio-pattern onto an essentially life-less yet stable organism in a random though pre-assorted scheme, which should settle into this proxy as though its native organism, creating the semblance of birth."

Columbia nodded solemnly throughout his explanation. "Cool! That'll be fun!"

"You have absolutely no idea what I just said, do you, Columbia?"

"Don't insult my intelligence! I did my A-levels, you know…"

"In what, exactly?" Columbia murmured the answer that turned into a cough. "That's what I thought. Nevermind, I shall allow you to watch."

"Okay. Then we'll go?"

"Yes. After I prove my theory."

"Yay!"

Frank smiled, his eyes closed, taking a breath. Again he lifted and pointed the remote. He tried to phase out Magenta's alto giggling that came from far behind him. "Alright darling," he said, meaning the machine. "Make daddy proud."

He pressed a red button, and the machine started to buzz. He turned a dial to 2 o'clock and it whirred. He pressed a series of small white buttons and the satellite dish woke up and slowly revolved towards him. He turned the dial to 5 o'clock and touched the red button once more. A thin red beam shot out from the golden satellite dish, pin-pointing on Frank's chest. He changed the setting of a switch and the beam expanded to encompass an area the size of a basketball, flowing over his body and over his face. He closed his eyes in the red glare, but he was grinning.

Unbeknownst to Frank, however, the satellite had begun to expand its beam. The red oozed off his shoulders, lit the wall behind him. It grew wider, stretching towards Columbia, who gaped, much impressed, at its attractive cherry red. The machine's database was hungry for all the patterns it could find. One was not enough. Then, after a brief series of flashes, the beam intensified so that it became almost opaque, and then abruptly died.

The only person still standing was the statue.


	2. Chapter 2

When Frank awoke, his hand went to his head and he groaned. Something must have been awry in the intensity of the probe beam; clearly it had overloaded his sensory network somehow and caused him to pass out. It had _also _made his hair go all frizzy by the feel of things. He patted it up and down. Yes… very frizzy, it created the illusion that there was much more hair there than he was used to. He dropped the hand over his chest in annoyance. How embarrassing.

Then a thought occurred to him and he looked down to where his hand was lying… cupping one of his breasts… yes… something rather wrong there… Either he was very much in need of a diet or else—

"_Magenta_!"

A sound of stirring, and Columbia crawled onto her knees. "Yes, master?" She too looked as though she had a thrilling headache.

"Magenta?"

"_Master_?"

Ah. It all made sense. "Columbia!"

There was no response, and then a body rolled towards him.

"Yes, Mag?" Said Riff Raff.

"I'm not Magenta, I'm _Frank_," he explained. "There's been some mistake." There certainly _had _been. Riff Raff cocked his head, leaned it on his elbow in a cute gesture the body was thoroughly unacquainted with.

"Really, Mag? 'Cause you look like Mag. Are _you _doing _Dust _again?"

"I don't think so, my dear. Look over there." He gestured towards where Columbia's body sat and stared at them with a look of some discomfort.

"Hey!" said Riff Raff's face. "How did we get a big mirror suddenly?"

"Stand up," Frank told her.

"K…" She did so. Her body did not. She shrieked.

"Yes… it would appear that our ethereal selves have been somewhat… re-shuffled." He stood up carefully, brushing the dust off his maid's uniform. "Now… where am _I_…?" His head turned suddenly at the sound of the elevator going downstairs. "Oh dear… This is bad…"

When Riff Raff had regained consciousness and seen the extent to which his body had been transformed, he briefly suspected a miracle – a miracle with canny fashion sense! But upon seeing the quietly pulsing machine a few feet before him, he surmised what had really happened, and immediately knew what he wanted to do with this knowledge. He crawled silently towards the elevator shaft while the others became aware of the situation, not trusting of himself to stand in Frank's precarious shoes until absolutely necessary. Holding onto the speedily closed gate for support, he left the laboratory behind and found himself panting through lips that were full and red. He licked them; they felt nice. Well. This would teach that posturing bastard. Oh yes, this would teach him. Before Frank got his body back… Riff would make a few… alterations…

Crossing Magenta's arms and setting her dusky features into a scowl, Frank waited before the empty shaft.

"Just whose idea was it for there to be but one way in and out of this room?"

Magenta, appalled at the _pink _she was currently forced to wear, put a look of damp derision upon Columbia's innocent face. "Not mine… Master…"

Eventually the unit returned and stopped with a lurching sound on the ancient gears. Riff Raff bounded gaily towards it. Frank was amazed; _nothing _could phase Columbia for long. Even being trapped in that… rather unfortunate form. He opened the gate with unnecessary aggression.

"Columbia! Bring my invention, we can't leave it here to be tampered with. And be careful!" This as he remembered the usually well co-ordinated dancer's being saddled with a body whose habitual movement would never get it admitted into the Bolshoi Ballet.

"It's cool, I've got it!"

"Let's hope so. Magenta?" Columbia's bare feet paddled discontentedly into the booth beside him. "Magenta, I loath to think what your brother might be planning for my corpus. I insist you attempt to distract him long enough for me to recalibrate my invention and return us to normal."

"I vill do vhat I can…"

Proxy- Riff Raff prodded her with an annoyed finger. "Stop making me talk funny!"

"Oh dear," sighed Frank as they left the lab behind.

Hearing the lift descending, Riff Raff gave up all thoughts of stealth and made a fairly swift and very noisy passage to the kitchen, grabbing a sharpened knife as the face of Magenta swung into view.

"Riff Raff! Unhand my body!"

"I think not!" He smiled toothily, haunching over in his habitual, cornered rodent fashion. "I think, considering the circumstances, I have somewhat achieved… the upper hand."

_Good gods, he's destroying my good posture! _Frank thought miserably. _What have I done to deserve this?_

"What do you want, Riff Raff?"

"Want?" The handyman looked disturbingly pleased with himself. "Why… whatever could I… _want_?" And with that, he raised the knife and made a neat incision midway up Frank's arm, drawing blood. His eyes widened and he chortled to himself like a squirrel.

Frank let out a wail. "What are you _doing_? You can't _bleed _me, this is mutiny!"

Columbia and Magenta, in their new forms, now stood behind Frank, against the kitchen wall. Magenta let out a dry cackle at the sight. Frank whipped her own head around to face her. "Oh you're _really _not helping!"

"Sorry…" Chuckle, "Master."

Columbia danced uncomfortably from black-shoed foot to foot. "Awwww… Make him _stop_!"

Frank took a step forward, but Riff Raff raised the knife in a warning gesture.

"Uh-uh-uuuh. You don't want to try that…" He pointed the blade at his crotch. "Oh the _things _I could _do _to you!"

The erstwhile Magenta-eyes virtually bulged in their skull. Frank spluttered to make sense. "You wouldn't _dare! _The pain would be too much!"

"Ah. But you greatly underestimate my pain threshold…" He eyed the true Magenta lewdly. "Doesn't he, my pet?"

She made amused sounds of assent.

_Loyalty, _thinks Frank. _It doesn't mean a thing anymore… _"Alright, alright, stop. I'll do whatever you want, just… stop thinking about carving me up."

"I can't promise to stop _thinking _about it, Furter… Oh! You know what? I just did! But I will put off the redecoration of your epidermis for a while… provided you follow my instructions to the letter."

Frank sighed; he loved himself too much not to assent. "As you wish."

While Columbia, still ensconced in Riff Raff's body, was allowed to wander off and do as she desired, those within the shells of Columbia and Magenta had very particular duties. Columbia's legs draped over the covered throne in the main hall, Magenta was keeping an eye on Frank. The doctor, meanwhile, was bent over, theatrically play-cleaning various statues and objets d'art. Presently, Riff Raff came swishing into the room, having fairly well mastered Frank's height and stilettos.

"Magenta!"

The proxy-domestic's head swung around, and Frank let out a sound of great dismay before he could stop himself. Oh… the horror… Riff Raff had covered his glorious black curls in product, and had shaped it up into the preposterous barnet dildo that Frank had caught the handyman wearing from time to time. As if that weren't bad enough, he had replaced Frank's tasteful corset with a full vinyl catsuit, inky and gleaming. It was ghastly.

Frank almost reprimanded him, almost lost the plot, but recovered; superficial bastardisation he could handle… so long as Riff left his precious skin alone!

"Yes, Master?" He sounded like a man on the gallows.

"NO!" Riff Raff cracked the whip – _My whip! _Frank realised – that had been concealed behind his back. "No, that's _wrong_, Furter! I warn you, get it _right _this time!"

"Sorry… Um… Yes! _Master! _Oh… oh vhat can I do for you?" It wouldn't take a man with considerable medical training to sniff out Riff Raff's particular issues; and Frank _had _considerable medical training. The neurotic hunchback with the inferiority complex could make some enterprising young Psychiatrist with a thesis very, very well known…

"Go and assist Columbia!" He ordered. "I will be preparing a _floorshow_!"

_I don't really sound like that, do I? w_ondered Frank with some consternation.

"Yes, Master!" He hastened over to the throne, stood beside Magenta, managing to slip a few choice words to her before he again turned to face his body. Columbia's face gave him a superior glance.

"I said I vould do what I _could_… And I _can't _go against my nature."

"Dicey semantics," Frank muttered behind his big red perm.

Then—

"_Wait!" _Riff Raff put a finger that was supposed to seem thoughtful to his lips, cocked his other hand on a raised hip. Frank cringed inside. "I've had another idea! Magenta… you will refuse to dust the throne while Columbia is sitting in it… and Columbia will punish you for your disobediance."

Columbia's face was infected with a broad plague of a grin. "How vill she be… punished? My most insightful master?"

"Why… you will humiliate her with a public display of the erotic, concentrated on her very person, most… radiant sister of Riff Raff."

Frank rolled the eyes currently under his control. How _repulsive_! Performing with Columbia was chore enough, but now to do it with Magenta mocking him from behind his groupie's thickly mascara'd eyes?

"I won't do it!"

"What did you say… _servant_?"

_Oh shit. Did I say that out loud? Well. Why not. It's time to make a stand! _

"I said I won't do it, Riff Raff! It's bad enough I have to walk around in a body that's been contaminated by you so many times! I – " A brilliant and slinky scheme reared its head. "In fact. I think it's time this came to an end. Before you regret it."

Riff Raff made a poor though enthusiastic imitation of Frank's chortle. "I think you may have gotten the words backward… It is _you _who will be taken with grief… Not I."

"We'll see, shall we?" Frank's new body grew heated; with each syllable, his gambit grew higher and more impenetrable around him. He hoped it would not prove his – or his _body's _– undoing. He slipped a hand into the maid's uniform, into the pocket where he had seen Magenta secret away little things during her day: bobby pins… loose change… narcotics… ah! Yes indeed! He withdrew a pen, put it quickly to his bare arm. Presently, he raised the limb for Riff Raff to see.

"GAH! How _dare _you, you disrespectful little – "

"Wait," Frank suggested. He scrawled further lyrics across his other forearm, then raised a leg on a stool and began to deface Magenta's thigh with more of the same.

Riff Raff's borrowed head looked as though it might explode. But then he managed to calm himself. "No matter. You will wash it off. And if you don't…"

"Ah. Yes, it _will _wash off, won't it? Unless, of course…" Frank made a desperate dash, slipping past Riff Raff and towards the elevator. Drawing the door shut, he yelled to his enraged pursuer: "Unless I'm right, and Eddie left his tattoo kit here on his last visit!"

A tortured scream followed Frank as the elevator scaled the shaft towards the bedrooms.


End file.
